D.E. Night lives, dreams, and writes in South Florida amid her menagerie––two dogs and two cats––with her husband. “The Crowns of Croswald” is her first book. She draws inspiration from silver-screen storytellers, magical imaginings, and her younger brothers. A day spent in Croswald, or another whimsical world, is her favorite kind of day.

In Croswald, the only thing more powerful than dark magic is one secret...

For sixteen years Ivy Lovely has been hidden behind an enchanted boundary that separates the mundane from the magical. When Ivy crosses the border, her powers awaken. Curiosity leads her crashing through a series of adventures at the Halls of Ivy, a school where students learn to master their magical blood and the power of Croswald's mysterious gems. When Ivy s magic and her life is threatened by the Dark Queen, she scrambles to unearth her history and save Croswald before the truth is swept away forever.

From the scaldrony at the Castle Plum, where Ivy is the servant in chargeof caring for the scaldrons (small domesticated dragons, bred to be ovens).*

She distributed the buttery batter amongst the sour pans and then poppedthem into the scaldrons’ mouths, where hot breath would roil over the dishfor a few moments before it reached a caramelized golden brown. (Thesourness of the pans kept scaldrons from eating everything whole.) As sheput the last pan in, giving the beast an affectionate pat on the head whiletaking care to avoid its fangs, a certain wheezing caught Ivy’s attention.Any other maid in the house would have passed the wheeze off as the typicalscaldron snore. Not Ivy. She knew that shallow, high-pitched breathingcould mean only one thing: flue flem. The sickness was highly contagiousamongst scaldrons and the bane of a scaldrony maid’s existence.

She dashed in the direction of the noise and found the smallest of thescaldrons lying flat at the bottom of his cage, listless. Thisblack-and-white creature—scaldron 19—was one of the scrawniest of the crew,a bit of a slow cooker, and one that Ivy had been training and building hiscapacity. Number 19’s eyes were dull and rheumy and the only movement hemade was for his labored breathing. The telltale pink smoke was seeping outof his nostrils. This was not good news. Helga was the type of housemanager whose specialty was flying off the handle in a rather violent,eruptive manner. She hated anything unexpected, especially unexpectednuisances.

“No no nonononono! Please. This can’t be happening! Not today!” Ivy’smutter turned into a wail. “You heard Helga! She said she’d put you out ifyou so much as burnt the morning muffins again! Come on. You’re okay,aren’t you?”

He wasn’t. The scaldron shot a pathetic look at Ivy, clearly feeling sorryfor himself. With some encouragement and a bit of gentle prodding thescaldron managed to get up. Berry batter dripped out of his mouth, uncookedand runny. Looking around in horror, she saw that there was a considerablepool of the uncooked blue mess around the scaldron and seeping out of thecage.

Ivy panicked. She whirled around to scramble for a mop, a rag, anything andran smack into Helga’s generous bosom.

“Girl! Where are the griddlecakes? They are late and you know how I feelabout late and—”“So sorry, ma’am, I’ll bring everything up in one moment,” she interrupted,spreading her hands wide in a gesture of apology and conveniently hidingthe mess that scaldron 19 was rapidly becoming.

Just as Helga advanced, number 19 made a small sniffling noise. Then,“Ah-ahhh-CHOOOO!”Number 19 sneezed massively, spewing the contents of its oven mouth ontoboth Helga and Ivy. Helga took the brunt of it and was covered in blueberrybatter (and even a bit of last night’s dooger stew) from the wart on herforehead down to her pointy black boots. Helga nearly slipped. She whirledaround and when she spotted Ivy, her face changed from its usualdisagreeable pink to a surprising shade of lilac.

A complete silence fell on the room. Number 19 and Ivy made eye contact,the scaldron looking nervous and guilty. The short-lived silence waspierced by Helga’s shrill scream, reaching decibels new even to her. Bothrows of scaldrons shook in their cages as Helga unleashed.

“Ack! What is this? Disgusting!” she screeched. The goop, like slipperyglue stuck to her body, smelled worse than her horrific breath. Ivyhurriedly started mopping the floor, hoping that erasing some of the messwould help bring Helga out of her rage orbit.

The Crowns of Croswald

By: D.E. Night

Publisher: Stories Untold

Release Date: July 21st, 2017

*GIVEAWAY DETAILS*

Three winners will each receive a box with an ARC of the book, a light up "glanagerie" bottle, a card to the reader, and instructions for the glanagerie bottle

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